Chapter 39: Tangled Loyalties

Sophia woke with a start, her breath catching in her throat. The room was dimly lit, and the only sound was the ticking of the antique wall clock. Her heart was still racing, her body hot and aching from the night before. She hated herself for remembering the feel of Rafael’s mouth on her skin, the dominance in his hands, the way her body had responded like it had betrayed her.

She sat up in the silk sheets, the expensive fabric a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside her. Each passing day blurred the line between captivity and temptation. Rafael wasn’t just her captor anymore—he was her tormentor, her obsession, her addiction. And she hated that part of herself.

A quiet knock interrupted her spiral.

Before she could respond, the door opened, revealing Elena—Rafael’s trusted confidante. The older woman’s sharp features softened the moment she saw Sophia. She carried a tray of breakfast and herbal tea, placing it gently on the bedside table.

“You didn’t eat last night,” Elena said, her voice neutral but laced with concern. “Rafael asked me to check on you.”

Sophia rolled her eyes. “He cares now?”

“He always cared,” Elena replied quietly. “Just not in the way you expect.”

Sophia’s gaze hardened. “Is that what you tell yourself too? To sleep better at night?”

Elena sighed but didn’t respond. She simply handed Sophia a folded note and turned to leave.

Sophia hesitated before opening it. The handwriting was unmistakably Rafael’s—bold, confident, unforgiving.

> *Meet me in the observatory at 10. No guards. No lies. Just truth. — R.*

She crushed the note in her hand, torn between the desire to run and the deeper, dangerous curiosity that had begun festering in her since the moment he kidnapped her. She told herself it was for survival. For her father. For freedom. But part of her knew she craved more than just answers.

**

The observatory was unlike any room in the villa—vast, elegant, and open to the world. Floor-to-ceiling glass walls overlooked the sea, moonlight spilling in through the skylight. Rafael stood by the telescope, wearing only black slacks and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His tattoos peeked from beneath the fabric, hints of a past life inked into his skin.

He turned as she entered, his eyes raking over her in a slow, possessive sweep that made her pulse stutter.

“You came,” he said simply.

“I’m not here for games, Rafael,” she snapped, stopping several feet away. “You said truth. So start talking.”

He nodded, stepping closer. “Your father isn’t who you think he is.”

“I already know that,” she spat.

“No,” Rafael said, his tone colder now. “You think he was just caught in something dirty. That he got in over his head. But he wasn’t the prey, Sophia. He was the predator.”

Sophia flinched.

“He embezzled millions from my family. Gave intel to a rival cartel. And he arranged the murder of my sister.”

Her lips parted, her breath leaving her in a sharp exhale. “No… That’s not true. My father wouldn’t—”

“He did,” Rafael interrupted, stepping closer. “I was eighteen. She was sixteen. And he had her killed to hide his betrayal.”

Sophia shook her head violently. “You’re lying. You want to justify everything you’ve done—”

“I don’t need to justify shit,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “I took you because I wanted to destroy him. But now…”

He reached her in two steps, his hand curling around her waist. She gasped, but didn’t pull away.

“Now I don’t know if I want revenge or if I just want *you*.”

His words seared through her, tearing through the wall she’d tried to build.

“I’m not yours,” she whispered, trembling beneath his touch.

“You say that,” Rafael murmured, his lips brushing her temple, “but your body tells me otherwise.”

He tilted her chin up and kissed her—hard and possessive—forcing her to confront the truth in her own betrayal. Her hands gripped his shirt. She didn’t push him away.

**

Later, as they lay in silence, tangled in silk sheets and unspoken questions, Sophia finally spoke.

“If I help you bring my father down… what happens to me?”

Rafael didn’t respond at first. He stared at the ceiling like the stars might offer an answer.

“You become mine,” he said finally.

Sophia turned to him, her breath caught.

“In every way,” he added, his tone leaving no room for misinterpretation.

She should have been terrified. Maybe she was. But there was a new emotion creeping in too—something she hadn’t expected.

Longing.

And that scared her more than anything.

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